


breaking point

by burnthesocks



Series: old man and twink robot [7]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Birthday Sex, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Has a Penis, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Has a Praise Kink, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Gavin Reed Being an Asshole, Hand & Finger Kink, Hand Jobs, Hank Anderson is Bad at Feelings, Horny Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Love Confessions, M/M, Masturbation, Praise Kink, Public Hand Jobs, Resolved Sexual Tension, he's trying his best though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:09:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25918618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burnthesocks/pseuds/burnthesocks
Summary: Hank and Connor share birthday cake. Both of them struggle and ultimately fail to pay any mind to the actual cake.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Series: old man and twink robot [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1858183
Comments: 15
Kudos: 147





	breaking point

**Author's Note:**

> happy birthday to the gay robot

Since being awakened, Connor found that he envied humans. Despite his inability to age, there was a certain authenticity to it that Connor deeply wished he possessed. He was timeless. Beautiful and flawless because he was created to be; meticulously designed, even his imperfections were intentional. He couldn't even be sure that his deviancy wasn't programmed into him, only for him to be taken control of once more and potentially hurt the one he loves.

Hank, who was so beautifully flawed it made Connor’s thirium pump physically ache. Every imperfection made Connor long to know more, to see more of his scars and bumps along his skin. A peek of cellulite had Connor reeling, though he was good at making it appear otherwise; at the time that Hank’s shirt had ridden up to reveal stretch marks, Connor had seemed relatively collected aside from his LED spinning yellow. He swallowed analysis fluid that flooded into his mouth unwarranted, clearing a heat distribution warning from his vision. 

That being said, just about anything that Hank Anderson did drove Connor up the walls.

It’d started innocently enough, Connor supposed. Even before his deviancy, he'd felt something foreign for the Lieutenant and it only worsened after the revolution. Connor had considered Jericho as a place to stay, but in the short time that he had spent there, the other androids had been wary of him. He couldn’t blame them, either. He knew who he was. The deviant hunter.

Even so, it was still somewhat upsetting to have even his own people distrustful of him. He felt as though he belonged with no one, but there was one person he hadn’t stopped thinking about… ever. From the first night he had been assigned the deviancy case, he was thinking about Hank. And even after he deviated, certainly not working the deviancy case with Hank anymore, he was still always thinking about Hank, even more so than he had been before.

So it wasn’t much of a surprise to anyone besides Hank himself when Connor quickly reached out to him. Hank responded quickly. Hank had told him of how impressed and proud he was of Connor, who, unbeknownst to Hank, squirmed at the unexpected praise. He felt the familiar warmth he’d often felt around Hank since he met the man, and he was grateful he didn’t have to be the one to ask. Hank had asked if they could meet up, to which Connor agreed and so the next morning they met at the Chicken Feed.

Connor’s systems were immediately overwhelmed at the mere sight of his old work partner, who was now on leave for punching Perkins. Another thing they had texted about, Connor fretting about how he could have potentially made Hank lose his job. Hank insisted it was fine, though; Fowler was used to this behavior, and even after the years of self-destruction since his son’s death, Hank was still an amazing detective, and not exactly someone they could afford to lose. It had alleviated Connor’s worries, though Hank had expressed his appreciation for Connor caring, at which Connor felt fond annoyance. Of course, he cared.

Hank eventually turned and noticed him standing there, arms crossed, probably in some defense from the cold morning. Dim sunlight was illuminating Hank’s face, and Connor swore it got brighter when Hank smiled at him. He felt his mouth twitch involuntarily and realized he was smiling too. They wordlessly walked over to each other and Connor found sanctuary in Hank’s arms. Hank held him close, hand over the nape of his neck, and Connor smiled into their hug.

He could hardly see anything past the warnings of software instability and errors in his thirium pump regulator, but he found that he didn’t care; he didn’t need to see anyway, it was more than enough to feel Hank’s strong arms wrapped around him. Hank shivered slightly, and Connor held him tighter. He had the ability to turn up his internal temperature at will, which he would've done for Hank— only, he'd already begun to heat up, and back then he hadn't really known why. 

It was definitely not hot outside, hardly reaching forty degrees, and Hank seemed to sink into Connor, head burrowed in his shoulder. Connor enjoyed the weight of Hank pressed into him, but as soon as Connor concluded that he could stay like this forever, Hank pulled back from him. Connor almost continued to grip him before realizing the moment was over.

“I really missed you, Connor,” Hank had said, looking into Connor’s eyes, seemingly searching. Connor found himself breathless, despite not needing to breathe at all.

“Yes,” Connor whispered, although it was just the two of them. “I missed you too, Hank.”

Connor hoped that Hank found whatever it was he was looking for.  
  
_____________________   
  


Hank had realized Connor had nowhere to go, and Connor weakly protested that he could stay in Jericho, though Hank could probably tell from the way his body seemed to shrink in on itself that Connor was no more fond of that idea than Hank was.

And the following months, he had stayed with Hank, who eventually got his job back and Connor was welcomed back on the force quickly, once the legalities of it had been worked out. That was another thing Connor wasn’t interested in; had he stayed in Jericho, he probably would have been in D.C. with the others. They were fighting valiantly for their rights in court, and it was moving painfully slow, but still moving. Despite wanting to have rights, of course, Connor found that he much preferred staying with Hank. Even when he had been without a job, Hank had let him stay at his place, and Connor repaid the favor by keeping the house tidy. Hank had even protested against that, saying that Sumo cost more than him when it came to having people around in the house. Connor had told Hank he wanted to, though, so he could at least feel useful, and it was the truth. Hank let up when Connor finally felt safe enough to explain to Hank why he still cleaned the house, even though Hank insisted that he didn’t need to.

When Connor was back at the precinct though, he was surprisingly welcomed and met with smiles for the most part. Detective Reed was an exception to that, of course, but that was hardly a surprise to Connor. Connor had, as Hank would say, kicked Gavin’s shit in back in November when he was attempting to locate Jericho.

It was almost unbelievable looking back on it and knowing that he was trying to infiltrate the freighter at the time. Almost. Connor still remembered with vivid detail the wrong decisions he had made, such as calling Carlos Ortiz’s android to attention. Hank had always groused him for feeling so guilty about it, telling him that it was okay because it wasn’t him, it was his programming. As much as Connor knew he was right, it was still hard sometimes.

He had been back at work for months now, and he found that Hank overall seemed to be in better spirits now that Connor was working with him in comparison to the months prior, where a case would sometimes send him home in such a horrid mood that Connor couldn’t even get him to speak. That rarely happened anymore, though, and for that Connor was grateful.

The more time he spent with Hank, the closer he got to understanding his feelings, and the breaking point was a stakeout and being far too close to losing Hank that made Connor come to terms with the romantic feelings he held for Hank. His acceptance of his sexual attraction came not long after, when Hank had put his hair back and Connor had become so painfully erect from the simple action that he had to excuse himself to masturbate in the bathroom. He couldn’t avoid the guilt that came with it, every time he’d have to suddenly excuse himself before Hank noticed him sporting an erection for seemingly no reason. It really was the simple things, though. Another instance was Hank having to change into shorts- that complimented his figure, Connor might add- and a tank top to stay cool in the summer heat. Connor would have begun to sweat if possible, but instead his LED burned red as his thirium flow redirected to his cock at record speed. He had made some excuse about receiving a call from Markus and Hank hardly questioned it, letting the dog out to do his business. Hank never seemed to notice when Connor masturbated, though, and if Connor’s more realistic pre-constructions were anything to go by, that was probably for the best.  
_____________________   
  


It was August 15th when Hank’s behavior struck Connor as odd, seeming strangely evasive when Connor greeted him that morning with coffee and an offer to make breakfast before work.

“Did I do something wrong, Hank?” Connor asked, stepping into the passenger side and shutting the door after him as Hank put the keys in the ignition. Hank turned to him and smiled to himself.

“No, Connor,” Hank said, and his simple answer puzzled Connor further. “I promise.”

“...Okay,” Connor decided to let it go, as Hank clearly did not want to explain his strange behavior. Hank appeared to be repressing a smile the entire car ride, to Connor’s contentment. It was nice seeing Hank in a good mood, even if Connor couldn’t figure out the reason why.

When they’d arrived at the precinct, Hank looked to be buzzing with excitement, and Connor was baffled when they got to their desks and Hank pulled out a reusable bag. Connor knew he could scan it to see what it contained easily, but he figured if Hank hadn’t told him what it was, he probably had intended it to be some sort of surprise, though Connor was not sure what he did to spark such a thing. He sat on the side of Hank’s desk and saw something flicker behind Hank’s eyes so quickly he’d wondered if he imagined it. Hank set down the bag on the desk and reached into it, and Connor found that he shared that excitement he’d seen in Hank.

Hank pulled out… a cake?

He was looking at Connor expectantly, and when the realization washed over Connor, Hank’s face had already fallen.

“Shit, did you not want anything?” Hank’s face flushed and he looked down at the small cake he held in his hands as though it was the sole cause for all of his problems in life. Connor blinked, LED spinning yellow as he scanned the contents of the cake.

Oh. It was thirium based, safe for androids to consume. Connor hadn’t realized he had said nothing until Hank spoke again.

“I know you told me you were first activated today, so I figured maybe it could hold some meaning to you, like a birthday…” Hank trailed off, hand that wasn’t holding the small cake coming to rub the back of his neck. “It’s dumb.”

“It’s not dumb,” Connor blurted, finally finding his voice. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Hank, thank you.”

“Ah- it’s nothing. I just, uh, I’ve never seen you eat anything and I know they have things like this now, so I figured it’d be fun to get you a birthday cake for you to try,” Hank explained, and Connor smiled at him fondly.

“It’s not nothing to me, Hank, I appreciate it.” Connor said with such seriousness it seemed to catch Hank off guard for a second, but he caught himself by holding out the small cake towards Connor. Connor’s eyes weren’t caught by the motion, instead deciding to focus on the way Hank’s jacket hugged his frame when he reached the cake out to Connor.

Right, the cake. Connor blinked at him and took it into his hands, a shy smile on his face. Their hands brushed and Connor shifted his feet, warnings appearing in his vision even at the slightest of touch. Connor cleared his throat unnecessarily, blinking away the errors. Hank seemed apprehensive, and Connor didn’t make him wait any longer, picking up the plastic fork and opening the small plastic container the cake was packaged in.

Connor peered at it curiously before slicing into it with the side of the fork, meticulously cutting a perfect bite-sized piece. 

Hank’s eyes followed the movement and Connor first let his tongue slip past his lips, bringing the piece up to his tongue and analyzing it more effectively. He figured there wasn’t any harm and he took a piece into his mouth, for once chewing on something that wasn’t a pen cap. Hank watched him with his lips parted, and his gaze was ravenous. Connor felt his thirium pump stutter, hands twitching slightly under Hank’s watchful gaze.

“Do you, um…” Connor shut down some unnecessary processes, suddenly short on processing power as he felt the need to squirm. “Do you want to try some?” 

“Um- yeah,” Hank blinked and the look he’d previously held washed off of his face entirely, seemingly replaced by embarrassment. “Yeah, I really should have taken up your offer for breakfast.”

Connor offered Hank the cake, and he took it into his slightly trembling hands. Connor had a bit more self restraint when their hands brushed again, no unnecessary sounds leaving him as he watched Hank’s large hands grip the small plastic platter. He fought off a heat distribution warning, opting to avoid looking at Hank’s hands. His strong hands, which had light hair along the knuckles and a faded scar on Hank's left hand that Connor really wanted to press his tongue against– shit, he was looking. He redirected his thirium flow as best he could, willing his cock to get out of it’s already half-hardened state.

Connor dared to look up at Hank’s face, concluding that the man’s hands were certainly not safe to look at. Hank’s eyes met his own and Connor struggled to keep himself grounded. There was that same intense, hungry look in Hank’s eyes, and the Lieutenant didn’t break eye contact as he took a forkful of cake into his mouth. Connor bit his tongue, his hand twitching with the need to fidget as he felt himself get strangely dizzy. He suddenly felt the need to ensure they weren’t being watched and a quick scan that he ran without breaking eye contact mitigated his sudden worry. Those who were in the precinct this early were far too tired to pay attention to Hank and Connor. Connor broke eye contact to look at Hank’s mouth. He hadn’t noticed how close he had gotten until now, staring at the frosting at the corner of his mouth.

Connor could no longer hold back, filled with an overwhelming need to analyze the icing that remained on Hank’s lips, and a low sound left his lips before he could stop it. Hank raised his eyebrows at him, but Connor couldn’t form any sort of excuse as he watched Hank’s throat bob, presumably swallowing the cake.

“I’m sorry, uh,” Connor’s eyes darted around the precinct, looking everywhere but at Hank. “Excuse me just a second.”

Hank couldn’t get any words out before Connor quickly walked off, doing his damndest not to walk strangely despite his predicament. By some crazy amount of luck, no one paid him any mind as he practically stormed into the male’s restroom. He didn’t bother to check for footfalls behind him, too desperate to get rid of the tent in his dress pants to even think to do so. This wasn’t his first time having to masturbate at work because of Hank and probably not his last, but he had at least been subtle about it most times, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He locked himself in a stall, leaning against the wall and ignoring the anti-android message scrawled on the wall next to him.

Connor frantically undid the button and zipper of his pants and pulled them down to his thighs with his boxers, just enough for his cock to escape from the restraining fabric of his undergarments. Under any other circumstances, he would have glared at it momentarily, almost hating its perfection, but he was in too much of a hurry to give a damn at that point. He wrapped his smooth hand around himself, biting his lip to keep from sighing in relief. He set up a fast pace, knowing he needed to get this done sooner rather than later to avoid arousing too much suspicion.

Connor realized too late that he had already done so and he froze up when he heard the door to the restroom open. He didn’t dare make a sound, and he felt dread as his auditory processors immediately picked up the sound of Hank’s footsteps coming directly towards the stall Connor had locked himself in.

Connor slowly pulled his hand away from his cock, his breath hitching as he realized that Hank was standing right outside the stall he was in. So much for not making any noise.

“Connor?” Hank’s low voice filled the otherwise silent restroom. Connor didn’t dare speak, so he settled for humming in a way that he hoped did not sound anything but questioning. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Connor responded far too quickly, and his voice was higher than normal. He desperately wished his erection would subside or cease to be an issue entirely, but this seemed to encourage it even more and it twitched eagerly when Hank spoke again.

“Can I come in then?” Hank asked in a growl. Connor whined, and that was the exact moment he knew he was found out, though he at least made an attempt to keep his dignity. He shoved his cock back into his boxers and buttoned his pants, opting not to zip them so he wouldn’t make himself too obvious, but he found it was safest to assume that the sound of his pants sliding back up over his hips was hardly subtle.

“Can you unlock the door for me, Connor?” Hank requested from the other side of the stall door, and it sounded more like a demand. Connor rushed to do as Hank asked, a loud clack sound filling the air as the door unlocked and Connor opened it. Hank was immediately in his space, squeezing into the stall and locking it shut behind him. “Good boy,” Hank praised, and Connor’s cock twitched where it was now clothed in his pants.

“Hank,” Connor strained, his thirium pump thrumming in his chest irregularly. He briefly wondered if Hank could hear the roaring in his ears.

“Now I’ll ask you again,” Hank began, slowly cornering Connor into the back wall. “What are you doing?”

“Nothi-” Hank’s hand forced Connor to make eye contact with him.

“I know what you were doing,” Hank said, pressing in closer to Connor. “Just wanted to hear you say it.”

“Hank, I…” Connor’s face flushed with color and he was suddenly hyper aware of the hand on the side of his face.

“Since you clearly can’t find the words, why don’t you show me, baby?” Hank offered, pressing a knee between Connor’s trembling legs. Connor whined at the nickname, and Hank’s knee met his groin, at which he suppressed the urge to rut against him. He suddenly felt more pressing matters than his cock against his dress pants when Hank licked his lips. 

“Hank,” Connor’s hand slid up into Hank’s hair. He’d combed it today, which was out of character for him. Connor really should have known, in retrospect, but his surprise birthday gift was the absolute last thing on his mind when Hank growled a response.

“What do you need, Connor?”

“Kiss me,” Connor pleaded, and Hank looked stunned for a moment before regaining his composure, though Connor did notice him blushing as he caught Connor’s mouth in a searing kiss. Connor’s lips would have bruised if he were human, but it only made Connor more desperate, tugging at Hank’s hair and earning a moan from the back of the Lieutenant’s throat. _Hank likes having his hair pulled_ appeared unhelpfully in his HUD and he immediately cleared the notification, wanting to remain focused on the way Hank’s mouth felt on his and the way his leg felt pressed against Connor’s erection.

Though Connor couldn’t bruise, his skin did sometimes tend to recede against his will when Hank touched him, something that had come with his deviancy. Luckily for him, it had always been a clap on the shoulder or the nape of his neck, and he had always been quick enough to catch it before Hank noticed. Now, though, it was hardly in his mind and he only realized before it was too late, Hank making a confused sound into his mouth and breaking their kiss. Connor stiffened when he realized exactly what had happened, and the synthetic skin was back over his lips far too late. Hank had already seen.

“I’m sorry,” Connor croaked, feeling dread wash over him. He braced himself for the worst and was surprised when Hank’s response hadn’t been nearly what he expected.

“Hey, shit, Connor,” Hank’s demeanor changed entirely, and now he sounded concerned. Connor made him upset. “I don’t- I don’t _care_ , Connor, shit.” When Connor winced, Hank slid his hand on Connor’s cheek and kissed him again, though it was different than the first time. It was gentle and soft, yet passionate and hoping. Connor sighed into the kiss, though he was still relatively tense. Hank noticed this and pulled away.

“Look, Connor, I’m fuckin’ bad at this, but…” Hank started, trailing off as he tried to find the right words. “I _care_ , but not, like, about you being an android,” He tried, and Connor blinked at him.

“I… don’t know what you’re getting at, Hank,” Connor said quietly, and Hank let out a dry laugh.

“You’re really gonna make me say it, Connor?” Hank said, and the amusement on his face didn’t quite match his words. “I- fuck. I love you, alright, Connor? I love you, and that means you without your skin or whatever.”

“You…” Connor looked up at him in disbelief. “You love… You mean that?” 

“Yes, Connor, now say something besides that please because I’m getting fucking nervous that I’m out of line here,” Hank said and Connor’s constant tracking of his vitals confirmed that Hank was feeling anxious. 

“No, Hank, you’re not being out of line,” Connor said softly, curling a strand of hair around his finger as he finally found the courage to look back in Hank’s eyes. His chest tightened at the fear he found in them, so he took his other hand and grabbed Hank’s and laced their fingers. He found that he especially loved the way they fit together. Connor’s skin peeled back on his hand to reveal the white of his chassis, and while it still made him nervous, he also found that he was also more sensitive this way; he could register the pressure of Hank’s fingers against the back of his hand much more strongly.

“I love you too, I promise.” Connor whispered and it felt like a huge weight was lifted from his shoulders just from speaking the words he’d been thinking for countless months. Hank sighed and laughed to himself a bit.

“Fuck, alright,” Hank said, smile forming on his face. “And one more thing, Connor?”

“What is it, Hank?” Connor blinked at him, white thumb rubbing at the back of Hank’s palm. He really liked how he could feel every scar in great detail. Hank’s knee brushed up and came in contact with Connor’s cock, which quite literally sprung back to life as quickly as it had flagged.

“You, uh- you want this, right? I don’t want to pressure you,” Hank asked softly and Connor felt his chest twist with affection for the man. Connor would have found it very cute if he wasn’t already painfully hard from Hank pressing his knee against his length.

“Yes. Badly,” Connor whispered, shifting his hips in case Hank had forgotten that he was still erect underneath his clothes.

“Yeah. Right, okay,” Hank said, and Connor was about to ask what he was waiting for when Hank spoke again. “We’re, uh, gonna have to be quick about whatever it is you want.”

“What do _you_ want, Hank?” Connor shot back, wanting this to be good for the both of them, not just himself.

“Shit, Connor, I don’t know, I’m out of practice,” Hank said, and Connor knew that was at least somewhat of a lie if the moans he’d hear from the shower were anything to go by, but he let it slide. “I’ll take whatever it is you’re willing to give me.”

“Everything, Hank,” Connor whispered hurriedly, squeezing Hank’s hand. “Take everything.”

“Shit, okay, don’t have to ask me twice,” Hank chuckled and his hand left Connor’s face. Hank took the hand that held Connor’s and kissed the white plastic before letting go to fumble with Connor’s pants. Connor sprung into action as well, hands efficiently working Hank’s jeans and boxers down to his thighs. His LED spun yellow for a moment as he took in just how big Hank’s cock was. He supposed it wasn’t too surprising, with Hank’s build, but Connor still found himself in awe nonetheless. Before Connor could register what was happening, Hank had his hand on his cock. Connor sucked in a sharp breath at the warmth of Hank’s hand against his erection.

“That good, baby?” Hank cooed and Connor nodded frantically, rocking into Hank’s hand. Hank’s hand wrapped around his length easily and he gave Connor a few light strokes before letting go entirely, causing Connor to whimper. Hank had said it himself, they didn’t have much time, but he didn’t voice these thoughts. He watched as Hank took his significantly larger cock into his hand and he stepped even closer to Connor. Before Connor could question what he was doing, Hank had his hand on both of their cocks and _oh._ Connor threw his head back with a low moan, pre-cum– or, the android equivalent, which was more comparable to lube– beading at the tip of his cock. Hank swiped his thumb across it and spread Connor’s pre-cum over the both of their cocks. Connor’s skin receded where Hank’s free hand gripped at his waist, and Hank leaned forward to kiss the plastic.

“Fucking beautiful, Connor,” Hank said breathlessly, and Connor’s cock twitched into Hank’s hand, which now was working a quick pace. Connor’s hands found their way into Hank’s hair, pulling him forward sharply to press bruising kisses on Hank’s neck. 

“Connor, I’m not g-” Hank’s warning was cut off by Connor pulling back and kissing him and it sent Hank over the edge. Hank released onto his hand and groaned into their kiss, pulling away and putting his lips up to Connor’s ear instead.

“My good boy,” Hank murmured, twisting his wrist as he did so and Connor came with a cry, bursts of android semen painting the walls of the stall and covering the anti-android sentiments. Hank’s breathing slowed and he released the hold he had on their cocks.

“Was I… good?” Connor asked quietly, feeling as though he didn’t do enough for Hank even with both their semen dripping from Hank’s hand. Hank pressed a kiss to Connor’s forehead and despite the circumstances, Connor found himself blushing.

“Yeah, Connor,” Hank laughed, ruffling the android’s neatly combed hair with the hand not coated in semen. “Too fuckin’ good.” Hank reassured him and Connor leaned into his hand, disappointed when it disappeared to grab toilet paper. Hank wiped the cum off of his hands and turned to the side of the stall.

In Gavin Reed’s handwriting, it read “Fuck Androids”, and Connor’s cum covered the sharpie-scrawled message. Hank and Connor shared an amused look at this.

“Just did, asshole,” Hank grinned and pulled his jeans over himself, flushing the used toilet paper and leaving the spunk covering the side of the stall as a message. Connor tucked himself into his dress pants and they both walked out of the stall. Connor made an attempt to look presentable, pausing in front of the mirror with a scowl on his face. Hank rolled his eyes at Connor, who gave him a pout through the mirror.

“We’ve already been long enough, Connor,” Hank huffed, pulling Connor away from the mirror and into him. Connor pressed a quick kiss to Hank’s lips.

“Happy birthday to me,” Connor said giddily.

“Damn right,” Hank grinned and grabbed Connor’s hand, leading the android out of the restroom. Connor felt slightly nervous at this but didn’t drop Hank’s hand as they walked back over to their desks, where the cake sat abandoned. As they passed the break room, though, they were interrupted.

“Hey, Anderson, been fuckin’ your plastic pet?” Gavin sneered from the doorway, and Hank stopped dead in his tracks. For a second Connor worried that Hank was about to make a horrible decision, but instead, Hank laughed.

“Why don’t you go see for yourself?” Hank shot back challengingly, not even bothering to turn to Gavin. Gavin sputtered and Hank’s free hand shot back to flip him off for good measure, squeezing Connor’s hand. As they walked off, Connor looked back and caught sight of Gavin’s mortified expression.

_Happy birthday to me indeed._

**Author's Note:**

> kudos & comments are appreciated and make socks do a little happy dance!<3


End file.
